


render safe, contain

by jestbee



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bomb disposal, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Mild Peril
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 21:01:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17567870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jestbee/pseuds/jestbee
Summary: Dan and Phil are Bomb Disposal Technicians and have to work together to diffuse a rickety rig with a timer counting all the way down to zero.Dan's been in love with Phil for forever, so he's trying to do everything properly, but Phil wants to dive in head first. Whichever way they do it - There's bound to be explosive results.





	render safe, contain

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Phandom Fic Fest flash fest: Dan and Phil GAMES
> 
> Based on Keep Talking and Nobody Explodes

The usual bitter coffee is also lukewarm this morning, but Dan is running too late for him to investigate if that is because the machine is broken, or just that it's turned off. 

The captain is sure to give him an earful about this, given that he's missed morning briefing twice this week already, so he breaks into a quick jog across the office, nearly colliding with a flustered looking admin assistant, and barely makes it through the door as it's being closed. 

"I covered for you," Phil says when Dan joins him in their usual spot against the back wall. 

"Cheers." 

"Nice of you to join us, Howell," the captain says from the front, "car trouble all fixed?" 

He says it in such a way that suggests he definitely doesn't believe whatever lie Phil told him, but Dan just smiles and says that yes, everything is fine now. 

"I don't even have a car," Dan says out of the corner of his mouth. 

"No," Phil grins, "but he doesn't know that." 

The usual briefing gets under way, statistics, updates, and then they're sent out into the office to await further instructions. 

"Oh, Howell, Lester," the captain says on their way out, "could I borrow you?" 

Dan looks over at Phil and gives him a look that says 'oh god, here we go', and they make their way to the front of the room. 

"There's a seminar for some potential additions to the unit next week," the captain says. 

Phil blinks at him, and Dan has to stifle his laughter.

"I would like you to take care of it."

"You want us to present?" Phil says, the fear in his eyes making them wide, all three colours on stark display. 

"Yes, Lester, I trust you can handle that?" 

Phil swallows and seems lost for words. Dan takes over for him, he probably owes him one for covering for him any way. 

"Sure," he says, "no problem. We can do that." 

"Just…" and here the captain glances over at Phil, "don't regale them with any of your more… colourful stories. They don't need to hear about any of… that." 

"No stories about how Phil almost gets himself blown up regularly," Dan says, "check."

The Captain is not amused, but he's never really been one for smiling. He dismisses them from the briefing room and they make their way back to their desks. 

"I don't understand you sometimes," Dan says, "ten years in bomb disposal doesn't scare you but the thought of giving one presentation and you're like a deer in headlights." 

"Bombs don't have eyes," Phil says. "All those people staring…" He shudders. 

"Not usually," Dan says, "But remember that one that--" 

The phone ringing interrupts Dan mid-sentence and Phil leans over to pick it up. 

"Lester, PSBD," he answers. 

His smiles drops and his eyes go deadpan and serious. An alert then. Dan doesn't take off his coat. 

"Right," Phil is saying, "yes. Okay. Got it. We're on our way." 

"Where?" Dan says, when Phil puts the phone down. 

"Underground," Phil says, "though that's--" 

"Strictly need to know," Dan nods. "Right. Come on."

They haul out, stopping for their kit and the rest of the team. They pile into the van and Phil sits close next to him on the seat. He's got his game face on. 

When they arrive, they join the lead investigator at the perimeter they've set up.

"What are we looking at?" he says. 

"Guys on the ground located it under a seat in a carriage. Idiots made the mistake of opening it of course which set it in motion. Definitely handmade, rickety as all hell, we're looking at some unibomber type shit." 

"Do we have eyes on it?" 

"Cameras are being set up now," he says, "We've got the RCV ready to go." 

Phil shakes his head, "from your description it might be too delicate a mechanism, we might have to do it by hand." 

Dan looks over at him, because he knows what that means. He hates it when it's like this. 

"Let's just run the diagnostic," Dan says, "before we jump to conclusions. The RCV might be the way to go." 

"Trust a technician to want to do it the new-fangled way, eh?" the investigator says, with an elbow to Phil's ribs. 

Phil doesn't respond, but he does shoot Dan a look that's heavy with foreboding. Dan is probably kidding himself, if things are the way they're saying. 

It's a long way down to the abandoned platform and Dan's steps echo off the walls. There is already a small team setting up screens and camera that will give Dan eyes on the situation. He sets his computer up and loads the software for the RCV. He doesn't care what Phil says, procedure dictates he run the diagnostic and check the build, Phil can't just go charging off in there when they don't even know what they're dealing with. 

Melodie is on hand to assist. He likes her, they've had a drink a few times and have become good friends, once she got over the fact that his lack of interest in her romantically wasn't down to her specifically, but rather his lack of interest in women in general. 

"Howell," she says, offering him a chair. 

"Mel, have you had eyes on it?" 

She shakes her head, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear. It's cut short in the back but the front pieces are long, hanging in her face in the way Phil's used to look in his twenties. He doesn't miss those days. 

She's a single mother, and takes absolutely no nonsense, so she doesn't sugarcoat it. 

"It's fiddly," she says.

"Phil reckons it'll be a manual containment," he says. 

She doesn't respond, but then, her silence says more than her words would. 

"I'm running the diagnostic," he says. 

"Obviously," she nods, "why the fuck wouldn't you." 

Phil is over with Dave. He's already kitting up, stepping into the suit and grappling with the tool belt. 

"He'll be fine, you know." Melodie says. 

"What? Yeah-- I mean, of course. I know. He's a good technician." 

"Dan," Melodie says, leveling him with a stare that could probably sink ships if she tried, "you're not fooling anyone."

Dan taps at his keyboard and avoids looking at her. 

Thankfully, she's quiet as he guides the RCV into the empty carriage. Luckily it's a station where the platform is level with the doors so he doesn't need to locate a ramp. He uses the camera on the device and the one they've set up nearby to guide his way. 

"Go on," Phil says, coming to Dan's shoulder. 

"It's fiddly," Dan admits. 

The device is in a gym bag, unzipped with wires exposed. It's so obviously handmade, the joins are secure, but it's amateur. It looks like something someone put together using Google and some basic soldering skills. 

"That's gritty," Phil says. 

He's leaned over, one hand on the desk near to Dan's keyboard and the other leaning on his shoulder. He's warm, and he squeezes gently, Dan doesn't know if he's even aware he's doing it. 

"I don't know how he didn't blow his fucking hands off," Dan says. 

"Or her," Melodie chimes in. 

"Sure. Equality for raving lunatics, that's valid. Or her." 

"Is that it?" Phil asks.

"I can't get a good visual from here," Dan says. "Could be further works underneath. I've got the scan, it isn't pretty." 

Melodie looks at her own screen where the readings are. "Shit."

Phil looks over at her too, but his hand doesn't move.

Dan types commands prompts in and the RCV arm delicately shifts a side of the bag. It's risky, but it does reveal a bit more. 

Most shockingly, there's a timer. They hadn't been told about a timer. It's a digital display is directly linked to the rest so that it isn't for show, but it's currently on around fifteen minutes, descending all the time.

"I'm going in." Phil stands up, pulling his suit and kit to rights, preparing to act. 

"Phil," Dan says, automatically. He's got an x-ray feed now, and his heart feels like it's going to hammer it's way out of his chest. "It's fucking chemical. And if that doesn't get you there's a pipe set-up with some pretty nasty shrapnel." 

"All the more reason I need to stop it."

"We wait for backup," Dan says. "It's not a solo op." 

"No time for backup," Phil shrugs, like it's no big deal. Like he isn't proposing a fucking suicide mission. 

"Phil."

See the problem is that they've been partners for so long, but it's so much more than that. They're best friends, and Phil comes to his house on a weekend to play videos games. They go for runs together in park, Dan went to Phil's mum's birthday party this year for fucks sake. He's finding it hard to be objective. 

"We have no other choice," Phil says. Ever loyal, dedicated to the job. 

It's abandoned down here, Dan wants to say. They've evacuated. There is risk that it could cave in but they have time to get everybody out. They do. 

But Phil won't stand for that, he can see that in his face. They look at each other, a silent argument passing between them. It's a bit deal, it's always a big deal on every job but this one, there's something funky about it. Dan can feel it.

"Fine," Dan says, finally. "But you stay on my mark, you listen to the fucking stats, Phil. No renegade shit." 

"Promise," Phil says. 

Dan hates how happy he looks to have won. 

"You two are ridiculous," Melodie says as Dan settles at his computer and Phil goes off to cross the tape. 

"He's just…" Dan trails off, he doesn't really know how to describe Phil. 

Melodie smirks at him like she knows something he isn't saying. 

"Oh shut up," he says. "It's not… We're not… You know it isn't like that." 

"Sure," she says. "I know. Doesn't mean you don't want it to be though."

Dan doesn't give her the satisfaction of a response and instead keeps his eyes trained on the screen waiting for the moment that Phil comes in to frame. 

"Are you staying calm?" Phil's voice says, in his ear. 

There's a comms unit patched in to both Dan's machine and Phil's suit so they can talk clearly. It's nice, having Phil's voice in his ear. He has to remember that Mel can hear it too. 

"I'm fine," Dan says.

"It's going to be fine," Phil says, and his voice is pitched low and quiet, as if he's talking just to Dan.

"Right." Dan chooses to ignore him, because he feels sick with how scared he is. "Initial observations?"

"It really is rickety," Phil says. "Like, at this point I'm surprised it survived the journey here." 

"Filling me with confidence about that 'this is going to be fine' thing," Dan says. 

"Maybe it's not even functional," Phil says, and on screen he takes a step forward. 

"I thought we said you weren't going to be an idiot," Dan says, quickly. His hands are over his keyboard, RCV geared up to ram Phil in the shins if needs be. If he does something stupid. 

"I'm not going to test it," Phil reassures him.

"Just--" he sighs, and Melodie shoots him a look. "Run the standard checks will you?" 

Things are quiet while Phil runs process. He makes remarks to Dan and they run through the checks they're familiar with, they could do this in their sleep.

The timer keeps ticking down. 

"It's not…" Phil makes a groan of frustration. "It's shit, this is a complete fluke, I don't even think it's intended but… the way the circuits work mean it's a one-shot chance." 

"Containment?" Dan suggests. 

He watches Phil turn and shakes his head on camera. He suddenly hates being so far away. 

"It's too precarious."

They can't get the thing out of here, they can't surround it an detonate, they don't have time for backup. Which means it's on Phil. 

"Please tell me we haven't fallen into an actual fucking movie and you don't have to do some red wire green wire shit." 

Joking is easier, because it helps him avoid the way there is bile in his throat and his palms are sweaty on his computer mouse. He doesn't take his eyes off Phil in the small window with the feed from the cameras. 

"All the wires are black," Phil says. "So, you know, much harder. But at least it isn't a cliche."

"Are you keeping your eye on the time," Dan says. 

"4 minutes."

Dan swallows. He has his own image of the timer in the corner of his screen, so he knows how little time they have. 

"Clear the area," Dan says. "I want all unnecessary personnel out of here. Tell the guys above that we're going old-school on this one. The might want to back up to avoid cave-ins."

The techs still gathered around the kit do as he says and in a couple of seconds, they are left alone. 

"That means you too," he says to Melodie. 

"I'm staying put," she says. 

"You've got kids," Dan says, "Hannah will miss her mum if this goes badly."

"I couldn't look her in the eye if I left you two nerds down here to get yourself killed," she says, "Hannah will be just fine, the two of you I'm not so sure about."

They share a moment of eye contact. Dan doesn't like to harp on about things like heroism or self sacrifice, because in this job those things get thrown around too easily, but he could see how it wouldn't be too trite in this case.

Dan nods, once, and turns back to the screen where Phil is surveying it.

"Did you catch the funky graffiti?" Phil says. 

"What graffiti?" 

"There's some kind of logo sprayed on the back.."

"Out of scope of the camera," Dan says, "Describe it to me."

Dan pulls up the open case database and does a search for any explosive devices with homemade specs and mysterious logos in the MO. There are surprisingly, a couple.

"It's like an R," Phil says, "but one that's fallen down the stairs." 

"Right." He scans the list. 

"Do you have any idea what he's going on about?" Melodie asks, and Phil laughs in his ear.

Dan clicks on an open case at a factory in Manchester two years ago. "I don't know how I do," he says, googling, "but yes. It's cyrillic, a Komi Dzje. I'll leave the detective work to the detectives, but it'll be useful for them to know if this all goes tits up. Good catch, Phil."

"Nothing is going tits up," he says. "Tits staying firmly down."

"We don't have time for your shit jokes," Dan tells him, hiding the fear in his voice. 

"Alright, grumpy, we've been in worse scrapes. What's got you all het up?"

Dan isn't sure, exactly. They have done this many times, but that rig in there is delicate, and what they'd thought was going to be a standard containment isn't turning out that way. Phil comes to his house, Phil watches Dan cook stir fry with wry amusement at his failings, and now Phil is staring that thing right in the face and Dan could lose him at any minute. 

He could lose him without him ever knowing how he really feels. 

"Coffee was shit this morning," Dan says. "Right, lets get this show on the road."

The timer is at three minutes. Phil's face sets itself back to serious, and he looks down at the wires. Dan watches the camera and flinches as Phil bends over, face close to it. 

"I think it's this one," he says, finally. 

"What brings you to that conclusion?" Dan asks. 

"My keen observational skills."

Dan shakes his head and Melodie reaches out. Quite uncharacteristically, she gives him a gentle squeeze on his upper arm, a warm smile of reassurance. 

"You'd better be right." 

Two minutes.

Phil fetches his pliers from the kit bag he's brought and crouches down on the filthy floor of the underground carriage. Dan's breath catches in his throat. 

He wants to say something, he _needs_ to say something, but the words won't come. 

"Hey Dan," Phil says. The hand holding the pliers shakes just a fraction, no one would notice it but Dan. 

"Yeah?"

"If I get blown up I'd really hate myself if I didn't say something right now."

Fuck. Not now, Phil. It feels final, like they'll never get another chance. Dan can't stand it. 

"What?" he says anyway, because it matters to him that Phil say what he needs to, even if he knows it's going to haunt his dreams. 

"I thought I'd have time for us to get our shit together," Phil says, "I know we've been dancing around it for ages but I thought we had…. You know, more time." 

His voice catches and Dan feels the back of his eyes prick. He can't breathe. 

"I know, Phil. I know."

"But… I love you." 

Phil has turned to look at the camera, and Dan is breathing heavily into his mic so that he can hear it rushing in his own ears. He'd thought when they finally did this that Phil would be in his arms, in his bed. He thought he'd at least be able to look in Phil's eyes without the barrier of a protective suit and a video screen. 

But this is how it's happening, It's now or never. 

"Me too," Dan says, fumbling for the words. "I love you too. Always have I reckon."

Phil chuckles, reaching out with the pliers. He delicately take the wire between thumb and forefinger easing it clear of the rest of the mess surrounding it. 

"If I get out of here," Phil says. "I'm taking you out."

"You're getting out of there," Dan replies, quickly. 

Their roles are reversed. Phil is usually the one to maintain faultless optimism, and Dan is the cynic, bur Phil is scared and Dan wants to believe that he's right. They're going to get out of here.

Dan looks over at Melodie. She's got a hand gripped on the edge of the table, and the hand she'd extended to pat Dan on the shoulder is still there, pressed against him. Dan places a hand overtop of hers and takes a deep breath. 

"Do it." 

Time seems to slow. The clock on Dan's screen keeps counting down, less than a minute Phil's pliers close in around the wire. There's a split second when the blades come down around the plastic and Dan thinks it's all over. 

The wire comes free, two halves jutting out at their own angles. The timer doesn't stop. 

"The fucking timer," Dan says. "Did you get the wrong wire?" 

"No," Phil says, a wobble on the edge of the word betraying his nerves. "No I… I'm sure." 

He looks over and around, frantically trying to map out each wire and where they go. They're not sure if it's over. 

Dan is on his feet. He hadn't made an active decision to do it but he suddenly finds that he can't sit here, not when there are twenty seconds left on the clock and they don't know if it's going to blow. 

"Dan!" Melodie is shouting. 

But Dan is past the tape, ducking under it and taking off across the platform. He reaches the doors to the carriage as the counter reaches zero, a loud beep filling the short space between him and Phil. 

Phil turns when he hears him coming, arms outstretched towards him, and his face goes wide with shock and fear. Time's up.

-

"The events of today have left me sadden, and shocked," The Captain says. "What happened down on that platform is going to keep me up at night, honestly." 

"We had no choice," Melodie says. 

The Captain glares. He's a dab hand at scowling like he might be trying to explode your head with his mind. Melodie only just escapes with her life.

"It was my fault," says Dan. 

The office feels small, and he's too tall to be crammed on to this small chair. 

"Come on," Phil says, beside him, "you're not taking the credit. It was mostly me." 

"Tell me why I shouldn't suspend you all on the spot," The Captain says. "You didn't wait for backup, you enacted procedure by hand that could have been completed by the RCV… and you."

He turns to Dan who shrinks back in his seat. He's a scary guy, their captain, thick-set and with a vein that pulses in his forehead. 

"Crossing the tape? No kit? I've seen the footage, the timer was almost gone and you just--" he sighs, seemingly out of words. 

"You've seen the footage," Dan says. "You know there was no way I could have stayed sat there."

Phil turns to look at him with the corners of his mouth pulled into a smile that is far too dark and meaningful to be appropriate at this moment. 

"Get," the Captain says, pointing at the door. "I'm too pissed off to deal with you right now." 

Dan doesn't give him a chance to change his mind, he hops out of his chair and follows Melodie out of the door. Phil striding on behind him.

"Shit," Melodie says, "today was intense." 

"You going home to Hannah?" Dan says. 

"Yeah. Fuck, we really came close today, didn't we?"

Phil reaches out and squeezes her on the shoulder. It's the same gesture Mel had given Dan earlier, when he was freaking out about possibly losing Phil. 

"We're still here," Phil says, his voice low in Dan's ear so that Dan realises how close he's standing. 

"We are," Melodie says. She shakes herself, falling back into the badass woman Dan knows her to be, like a wall comes down and the day slips away. 

"Go on," Dan says. "I think we've done enough for today." 

Mel gives them a last look, her head cocked to the side, just slightly. Her hair sweeps across her face, red strands of her fringe falling in her eyes.

"It's good," she says, "I'm glad you guys sorted your shit out. It was getting frustrating to watch." 

Dan shuffles his feet and Phil clears his throat. 

"Endlessly entertaining though," she says. "Seeya losers."

Dan turns to face Phil and opens his mouth to say something but Phil holds his hand up, palm out, to stop him. 

Dan follows him out of the office, back down the corridor past the break room with the broken coffee machine, and through the swing door to the locker room. There's no one in here, most people are working or out on jobs, they won't be flooding in here until shift change tonight. 

They're alone, finally. For the first time since the platform. 

"Phil I--" 

But Dan doesn't get a chance to finish his thought. Phil's hands are in his hair and his back is pressed against a nearby locker. Phil's chest slams into his and his lips crash in to Dan's. It's quick, and hard, and Dan can feel just a hint of teeth against the sensitive skin of his bottom lip. 

"Fuck," Dan says, gasping for air as they part. 

"We nearly died," Phil says, kissing him again with all the force of that statement. It feels passionate, slightly desperate, like something built up over time but finally finally breaking. 

The thought makes Dan's head swim, and the hard press of Phil against the length of him isn't enough. He wants him closer. He fists his hands in Phil's shirt and hangs on, feeling the thud of both of their heartbeats rush in his head. 

"Don't do that again," Phil says, pulling away, pressing their foreheads together. "Don't run off like that." 

"Couldn't," Dan says, "I couldn't stay where I was. Not after…" 

He trails off, pressing his lips to Phil's again because he can. He _can_.

"We should talk about this," Phil says. 

"Really?" Dan says, "Phil Lester taking the time to talk something through before jumping in head first? Shocking." 

Phil smiles. He's so close Dan can see the crinkles at the corner of his eyes and he knows he's smiling in response. Phil's hand cups his jaw and he brushes a thumb into the spot on his cheek where he knows his dimple is. 

"Some things need careful attention," Phil says. 

Dan throws his head back, laughing, the locker clanging behind him as it collides. "Oh my god," he says, "actual bomb disposal doesn't take careful attention, but I do?" 

He meets Phil's eyes, and is surprised to find them soft and sincere. 

"Yes," he says, quiet and low. "You do."

Dan stops laughing. 

"I don't know what I would have done," Dan says. "I don't--"

"We're here," Phil says, just as he had to Melodie. 

"Yes," Dan says. "But only because of a fluke, a bomb that maybe didn't even work in the first place." 

"I think I just defused it. The timer must have been on a separate circuit so it just kept going even though there was nothing to count down to."

"You would think it was all your skills," Dan says, rolling his eyes fondly, "and not just shoddy workmanship."

Phil smiles, and suddenly Dan doesn't want to talk about it at all. Instead, he kisses Phil again, hard and with everything he's feeling. All that relief over being alive, over Phil being alive. All the years that have passed without saying something, all the time they might have lost if today had gone differently. 

"Talking is overrated," Dan says. "We've already said everything that we need to say."

 _I love you_ Phil's voice says in his head, an echo of how it sounded on his headset.

Phil nods, and his fingers creep down onto Dan's neck. 

"Can I take you home now?" Phil says. 

"I would really like that."

Phil slides his hand into Dan's. Their fingers fit together just as Dan had always known they would. 

They've walked out of work together a million times. They've strode down the hall side by side and out into the world more times than he can count, but this time it's different. This time everything they've been hiding has been blown wide open, there are no more secrets between them, only wonderful, beautiful possibilities. 

Dan holds Phil's hand all the way out into the afternoon sunshine, thankful he's been given this little extra time when it could have so easily been ripped away. He plans to make the most of it.


End file.
